


The Best Birthday

by DaisyIfYouHave



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 11:58:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11312919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyIfYouHave/pseuds/DaisyIfYouHave
Summary: What do you do for the girl who has everything?





	The Best Birthday

“Michiru, I’m so excited for your birthday. I have so many things planned for you.” Haruka bounded about the room, excited, smiling brightly. “Only a week left!”

Michiru smiled. Haruka was so demonstrative in her love, she hardly thought anything could beat the party she’d thrown last year in the hotel ballroom, champagne and a band and speeches in Michiru’s honor, culminating a fireworks show. Haruka had poured every ounce of love and devotion, every drop of herself, into it. She must have worked for months.

Michiru had hated every moment of it.

She had never told Haruka that, of course. She was full of bluster and tough talk, but a single word of disapproval from Michiru’s lips could crush her so easily. Michiru had spent the whole of her life at giant parties she hated, one more night for a woman she loved more than anything in the world was nothing.

And so her birthday was more a thing to be survived than celebrated.

“Haruka, I’m sure I will love whatever it is you’ve managed to dream up. You always make it such an affair.” Even in the early days, when Haruka had little resources, she always came up with something. She remembered that tenderly hand-scrawled banner hung above her bed their first year together, colored with Michiru’s fine pencils pressed too hard on expensive art paper.

She still had it in her studio. Haruka had been so shy with those early expressions of love, so afraid of Michiru’s rejections. Now, there seemed to be little worry of that.

Haruka flipped through a notebook, writing down notes. “Perfect. I can’t wait for you to see.”

**

Michiru unlocked the door to the house, stepping inside quickly to escape the chill that seemed to be the war between winter and spring. She set her vi0olin down and hung up her coat at the door, her mind racing with the thousand things she had to do to get her quartet in order for the benefactor’s luncheon, and that new piece was really trying her new violinist, maybe a practice session at home would be helpful, and oh no, tomorrow was her birthday, she needed to buy a nice dress and brace herself.

It was only then that she noticed Haruka sitting on the stairway, two suitcases in front of her.

“Are you leaving me for my birthday? I must say, that’s untraditional at best.”

Haruka grinned and jumped to her feet. “Of course not.” She kissed Michiru merrily, her enthusiasm infectious. “I am taking you away from all this.”

“Oh? To Narnia? Never Never Land?”

Haruka put her hands on Michiru’s shoulders. “Narnia was booked, and I’m better looking than Peter Pan. But this is better!” She took a bandana out of her back pocket and drew it over Michiru’s eyes. “There. It’s a surprise. Stand here.”

Michiru listened to the bustle of Haruka, loading up the car and humming happily to herself, tromping up and down the stairs to retrieve things forgotten, moving gently when she took Michiru’s violin to its resting place upstairs. Michiru wasn’t sure if this was going to be better or worse. Haruka was so easy to read, completely guileless…and yet at times, she could totally unpredictable. She had planned something of which she was very pleased, but that was about all that could be derived.

Haruka stood in front of her, her cologne tickling Michiru’s nose with delight. “Okay, one last thing to load up.” She scooped Michiru into her arms and started down the front stairs. “Precious cargo.”

Michiru held tightly, her arms around Haruka’s neck, as she was slipped into the front seat of Haruka’s sports car. “How long am I required to keep this on, exactly?”

“Until I get us there! Couple of hours, maybe.”

**

They pattered back and forth for hours, Michiru telling Haruka all about the latest frustrations of her work with the symphony, and how she’s not even particularly interesting in selling to one of these galleries, but of course they are pressuring her to create, and the money is good, but sometimes it feels like her heart isn’t in it anymore. She prefers to paint for herself, mostly.

Haruka tells her all about the garage, and how she really needs someone to manage the office, and NO, it can’t be Mina, Mina is great at a lot of things but she’s not great at, well, always being responsible, and Haruka prides herself too much on the level of service they provide. She even left her stuff at home this weekend to study up on the new Lamborghini protocols, because this weekend was so important to her.

Michiru doesn’t need to see Haruka to know she looking over at her lovingly.

The car began to slow, and Michiru felt herself bristle with anticipation. Her trained ear focused on the quiet, the sounds of birds calling, a whisper through the trees. She felt Haruka untying the bandana, and the light was almost too much to her eyes, after a few hours of darkness. The light sparkled off the lake, the air fresh and free as it played through her hair, birds flying overhead.

Best of all, she could not see a single person she knew.

Haruka walked around to her car door, and opened it for her, taking her hand. “My lady.”

Michiru stepped out of the car into the brisk pleasantness. Haruka gathered up their bags, and headed into the large inn, cheerfully announcing their presence to the innkeeper as Michiru followed behind, noting the touches of décor, the brightness of the rooms, and the richness of the fabrics.

Haruka had done well. 

The innkeeper led them to the ‘Royalty Suite’ as she had called it, and it was not terribly overreaching. The fireplace was trimmed in green marble, the lines of it swishing and waving, almost like Michiru’s own hair. There was a fire already in place, a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket by the fire.

Haruka removed her coat and sweater, laying them on the bed, walking over to Michiru. “I hope you wanted a quiet birthday.”

Michiru did not take her eyes off the fire as Haruka put her arms around her. “Ruka, this is lovely. I am astounded at your thoughtfulness.”

Haruka removed Michiru’s coat and tossed it onto the bed with her own, leading her over to the plush red sofa in front of the fireplace. “May I pour you a glass? We have a little time before dinner.”

Michiru nodded. “Wherever are we going for dinner, pet?” She sipped the champagne gratefully. “I can’t imagine there’s anything very near.”

Haruka took a drink of the champagne. “Here. I arranged for the cook to make us something, I just have run downstairs and get it. I promised.”

Michiru laid her head on Haruka’s shoulder. “You are a wonder sometimes. So there’s no party?”

Haruka looked down at her, eyes wide with concern. “No. Are you disappointed?”

“Not in the slightest.”

At this reassurance, Haruka relaxed, sipping her champagne. Michiru melted into her, the warmth of the fire and the quietness of the room a balm over every rough edge. This was all she had ever wanted, to be close to Haruka and unbothered by the concerns of her family, and her duty, and the thousand little cuts that made up her day to day life. Every gift in this moment was Haruka: The scent of her cologne, the softness of her sweater, the feel of her touch on Michiru’s back, the sound of her heartbeat.

She very nearly fell asleep, rocked in the perfection of the moment.

Haruka delicately lifted her from her body. “I gotta go get our dinner now, but I’ll be right back.”

Michiru watched her pull on her sweater and go, before bringing her eyes back to the firelight. This was so unlike Haruka. Not that Haruka wasn’t thoughtful—she was, terribly, in her way. But she was simply louder, more expressive, more into flash and ceremony than Michiru could ever hope to be. Haruka was flattered when Michiru sang her praises publicly. Haruka was not used to such, more used to being a secret, someone girls thought was attractive but never wanted to bring home. Too rough. Too butch. Too loud. Too everything.

But to Michiru, public praise served those who were praising her. Her parents, her teachers. ‘Look at what we have done.’ They seemed to say. My daughter is a jewel of refinement. My student is a prodigy. The emphasis was always on how she belonged to them.

This hidden quietness, this was uniquely tailored to Michiru.

Haruka came back through the door, bearing a basket filled with food and wine. She set it in front of the fire, and laid out the throw from the end of the bed on the floor as Michiru looked on. She carefully distributed plates and silverware, two wine glasses, and then smiled up at Michiru.

“You gonna come join me, or what?”

Michiru slid off the sofa onto the blanket. “I suppose I could be convinced.” Her hand reached over and laid on Haruka’s knee as Haruka poured her a glass of red wine.

“For our fine selections tonight, we have, for you, a pot pie,” She finished pouring her own glass, and drew the pastry out of the basket. “Chicken and roasted vegetables, in a white wine sauce.” She set it in front of Michiru with a flourish. “Bon appetit”

She dug around in the basket and drew out a second pastry, setting it in front of herself and breaking apart some rolls, scattering the crumbs across the blanket.

Michiru picked at the delicate flaking top of her pie. “Chicken and vegetable pot pie for you as well?”

Haruka grinned. “Guinness and steak.” 

“But of course.” Michiru sipped at her wine, watching the fire play on. “Haruka, this is truly wonderful.”

Haruka swallowed her mouthful of meat and potatoes and wiped her face with her napkin. “Don’t get too excited yet. I’ve got the whole weekend planned. Tomorrow, we’ll have a picnic on the lake, and massages, and breakfast in bed, just to name a few.”

Michiru set down her wine and looked at Haruka, hair shining gold in the firelight. “I wish we could be like this always.”

“Well, someday. All this will end sometime, Pluto’s said it, Mina’s said it, even you.” She leaned back, belly full, and finished her wine.

“Yes.” And you’ll be gone, she did not add, but she suddenly found it hard to take a breath. She gulped down her wine, beating back the memories of a thousand visions and dreams.

Haruka jumped up and dusted off her pants, and then skipped into the bathroom wordlessly. Michiru heard the faucet run, a tub filling. Michiru was more or less ambivalent toward baths, but she figured Haruka had earned one today, and besides all that, lying skin to skin with Haruka sounded very comforting indeed. She smelled the orange blossom of the bath bomb Haruka must have selected, curling out of the bathroom like incense. She walked over to her suitcase, and opened it to search for a towel. A card fell out.

Michiru read over the quick, flashy script: ‘You’re fucking welcome, Ariel. Happy Birthday.’

It wasn’t signed. It didn’t need to be.

So that was how Haruka had gotten such an out of character idea, without Michiru’s suggestion. Mina was more clever than Michiru gave her credit for.

Haruka called to her from the bathroom, Michiru walking in to see Haruka snuggled under the bubbles, a plate of chocolate dipped strawberries by the side of the tub, her head laid happily against the cool tile.

Michiru stripped off her clothes, Haruka watching every reveal of her body. Michiru ever so delicately slowed the removal, slow enough to be a minor torture to Haruka but quick enough that Haruka could not be a hundred percent sure that she was being teased. Lastly, she unclipped the back of her bra and let it slip to the floor, a leg slipping into the scented bubbles next to Haruka.

Haruka drew her arm around Michiru’s waist, pulling her in close, Michiru’s head resting on Haruka’s shoulder. The wine went to her head, a flush filling her cheeks as the world faded away from her in this quiet, perfect shelter from the world that they had created. Finally, nothing seemed to matter.

That her family sat waiting at home did not matter. That the War lay quietly creeping on their lives did not matter. That Haruka would die bravely did not matter. That her incompetent quartet needing wrangling did not matter. None of it mattered but this moment, with this girl, and her happiness, however small, was not going to be stolen from her. Not now.

She kissed Haruka, deeply, and the taste of her silenced the darkness.


End file.
